


Home, Chocolate Cake, and Other Mystical Creatures

by geneeste



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Birthday, Early Season 4, Estrangement, F/M, Families of Choice, Gen, Parent-Child Relationship, sort of angsty, sort of fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 07:31:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7835740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geneeste/pseuds/geneeste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It might just be the best birthday she's ever had - despite the situation in the city, tense with power struggles and a tough mayoral election headed their way, almost everyone she loves surrounds her (even her mother, thanks to Oliver's maneuvering).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home, Chocolate Cake, and Other Mystical Creatures

**Author's Note:**

> Here's another one in my ongoing effort to decrease my unfinished pile!
> 
> This was started way back before season 4 even premiered, when we were still getting rumours about proposals and Felicity's father, so it doesn't keep to canon. Also, it was written before we knew that they would be living in Felicity's loft, so they're in an apartment rather than the loft, just so that doesn't throw you.
> 
> Enjoy!

Felicity picks up her plate, intent on enjoying the rest of her chocolate cake while she listens to the conversation and laughter filling her and Oliver's apartment.

It might just be the best birthday she's ever had - despite the situation in the city, tense with power struggles and a tough mayoral election headed their way, almost everyone she loves surrounds her (even her mother, thanks to Oliver's maneuvering).

It's a little awkward, sure. Her mother has only met Oliver, Diggle, and (technically) Sara before now, and it's hard to say she has much in common with Thea, Lyla, or Laurel. To complicate things further, she doesn't know anything about Felicity's other life, so they all have to be careful about what they say. And Donna is still Donna: outrageous, blunt, and always the life of any party.

Felicity might still feel embarrassed by her mother now and then, but mostly she feels grateful. This wouldn't have been possible even a few years ago.

Donna is just finishing a sentence when Felicity tunes back into the conversation. "-even longer, if you include the tisch and bedeken."

Felicity can't help her eyebrows shooting up at that. "That's the groom's party and bride's veiling," Felicity explains to the others before saying to her mother, confused, "which is really more of an Orthodox thing. Which we aren't."

Donna has that look (the one that means her mother's up to something and Felicity should be on high alert), and Felicity has to wonder how they get onto the topic of traditional Jewish weddings in the first place.

Oliver is sitting relaxed in a chair to her left, one hand propping his head up as he watches the group, and she turns to him as if to ask. He's no help, he just looks at her with… _something_ in his eyes (she's going to have to ask him about that later) and presses his lips together as if holding in a laugh.

He's got one long leg stretched out under hers keeping her calves warm. She nudges it a bit with her heal, sending him a mock glare before looking back at their friends.

"I thought Catholic weddings were bad," Thea says from her perch over on the couch with Laurel and Donna, sipping water. "One of our cousins had a whole Mass in Latin during her ceremony and it went on for hours. I'm pretty sure I fell asleep."

"You did, you drooled all over my suit," Oliver replies, and Thea makes a face at him, prompting a laugh from the group.

"Well, maybe you two can pick the best of both worlds when you get married, baby girl."

Donna says it nonchalantly, but the implication is clear and Felicity chokes on her wine. _And there it is_ , Felicity thinks, trying to hide a cough behind her glass.

Studiously avoiding looking at Oliver, she instead sneaks a glance at Laurel, worried that the mention of Oliver marrying someone else might bother her a bit, but she shouldn't have been concerned. Laurel widens her eyes comically at Felicity where Donna can't see it, and mercifully rescues Felicity (or worse, Oliver) from having to correct her mother in front of basically everyone they know as a couple.

"Isn't it time for gifts?" Laurel asks the group, and Felicity would kiss her if it wouldn't prompt another inappropriate comment from her mother. She wonders, with not a little bit of humor, if this is what's like for other people when they interact with her.

Diggle claps his hands around Sara, who squeals a laugh. "Ours first," he says, looking so pleased that Felicity has to share a grin with Lyla.

The gift is oddly shaped, cylinder-like and long, and Diggle stays nearby as she opens it gingerly. When she does, it unrolls to reveal itself as a doormat, and she belts out a laugh when she reads what's written on it: _There's no place like 127.0.0.1_

She's still grinning, feeling a little emotional, when he leans down to kiss her cheek. "I mean it," he murmurs and moves away, and she can tell by his warm brown eyes that she's not alone in her feelings.

She's feeling pretty good, idly listening to the others’ small talk in the background, as she unwraps the white ribbon on a small blue box. She opens the box to find a delicate, crystal unicorn nestled in velvet inside.

“Wow, that’s beautiful. Who’s it from?” Thea asks.

Laurel shakes her head. “There was no card. It’s not from you?” she asks Oliver.

Oliver shakes his head. “No, not mine,” he says cagily, exchanging a charged, humorous look with Felicity. She supposes he wouldn’t mention that he already gave her her birthday present quite skillfully and at length last night. (She just barely resists a satisfied smirk at the thought.)

She hums. “That’s weird. I wonder who would have sent it without a-” She breaks off at that, because she _can_ think of someone who might not have wanted to put their name on the box, and it sparks a memory, something she hadn’t thought of in years.

_Felicity ran into her father’s study, dropping her backpack and nearly tripping over her own feet in her hurry. “Dad! You know that Multi-ALU processor those scientists are working on at the MIT laboratory? I read that they’re going to release it.”_

_“Is that so?” her father asked, turning away from his computer screen. “Is that from the symposium notes I gave you?”_

_“Yeah! I read that it’s going to have its own integrated network router. It’s gonna be so fast!”_

_Donna came in from behind them and leaned against the doorway. “What’s an ALU processor?”_

_“Advanced logic unit,” Felicity replied absently, focused on her father. “It’s supposed to be made for other people next year.”_

_“Oh, I get it,” Donna said, although Felicity thought it was pretty clear she didn’t. Her mom wasn’t into stuff like that._

_“So, I was wondering,” Felicity started, hesitant. “If I don’t ask for a present this year, can we get it for my birthday next year?”_

_Her father laughed, and tugged on her ponytail. “Oh, Felicity, no. It’s for big corporations, not for people like us. You might as well ask for a unicorn.”_

Suddenly, Felicity is absolutely certain who left this for her, and she freezes. She’s stunned, and sad and sort of angry, and she feels a hot blush fill her face as she tries and fails to put the lid back on the box. 

Oliver reaches over, concerned, and puts his hand over hers. He’s dipping his head to get a look at her face, but she resists because she feels too exposed already.

“It doesn’t really matter,” she says, knowing her voice sounds weird and not being able to help it. Her hands feel so clumsy under Oliver’s, and she finally gives up on getting the lid to fit the box again. Instead, she pulls away and just smooshes the top down onto the bottom so she doesn’t have to look at the figurine anymore. 

“You know, I think I’ll get some more wine. Anyone else want some? No? Okay,” she says, standing up quickly and retreating to the kitchen, away from the eyes she feels heavy on her back. It’s not until she reaches the kitchen that she realizes she left her wine glass behind, but brought the small blue box with her. 

She turns around and dumps the whole thing in the trash with a _clunk_.

Moments later, she hears the click of her mother’s heels on the floor behind her. “Oliver wanted to come in, but I told him I’d help you with the wine.”

Felicity blinks furiously at the countertop, trying to calm down before she looks up. “I didn’t come in here for the wine, Mom,” she whispered.

“I know, baby,” Donna replies. She sighs, and then turns so that her back is leaning against against the counter. “I’m not sure, but I think that the last person who brought you a unicorn was your father. Do you remember? It was a silly little plush thing. I think he must have gotten it from one of those claw machines, it was so cheap. You loved it, though.”

Felicity doesn’t want to think about that. She doesn’t want to think about him at all. “I remember he left a month later.”

“Yeah. Yeah, he did,” Donna says softly.

“Why now?” Felicity asks. “What’s changed?”

Donna shakes her head. “I don’t know. I think what really matters is what you want to do about it.”

“Nothing. I don’t think I want anything to do with him,” Felicity says. She looks up to see Donna’s reaction. She feels like a child, needing reassurance from her mother. “Is that terrible?”

Felicity feels a rush of warmth when Donna’s reply is swift and firm. “No. Not at all,” Donna says, tucking a strand of Felicity’s hair behind her ear, and then holding Felicity’s shoulder comfortingly. “You have every right to feel angry. Not just for him leaving, but for ambushing you like this. It’s not fair to you, putting all of the pressure on you, and none on himself. It’s so cowardly, it makes _me_ mad.”

Seeing her mother get riled up, in her corner and upset on her behalf - it makes Felicity want to cry for a totally different reason. “Thank you, Mom,” Felicity says, voice thick.

Donna moves over for a hug. “Always, baby.” 

Felicity breathes in, letting her mother’s familiar perfume wash over her. In all the upheaval that had followed her father’s leaving, in all the years of conflict with her mother since, she’d always been able to count on this.

There was a cough from behind them, which Felicity could have identified even before she looks over Donna’s shoulder to find Oliver standing in the doorway. He looks worried, and a little guilty for lurking. The sight of his huge frame shuffling sheepishly makes her smile a little.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

Donna looks pleased, and lets go of Felicity to make her way out of the kitchen. “It will be. I think you can take it from here,” she says suggestively, and tops it off with a wink, patting Oliver’s arm as she passes him.

Felicity shakes her head wryly. “Apparently the ability to make everything sound dirty at inappropriate times is coded into our X chromosome.”

“Thank god for that,” he jokes as he walks over and slides his hands up her arms to her shoulders and back down again. “You alright?”

She smiles up at him. She honestly didn’t know if she is, can’t really quantify her feelings. She’s already disrupted the wonderful party he’d planned for her, and she doesn’t want to dampen the mood further by talking about it.

Instead, she enjoys a few moments of just studying him. Lifting a hand to his face, she traces a fine scar at his temple, and then brushes her fingers down through his beard, liking how it tickles her fingertips. “You have some red here,” she says, touching a spot on his jaw.

“Felicity,” he murmurs, leaning into her hand. His eyes had closed during her caress, but they pin her now. “Who sent you that gift?”

Of course he wouldn’t let her distract him - the man certainly knows how to stay on task. She lets her hand fall to his chest. “My father, I think.” 

His eyes tighten, and he stills his hands on her arms. Felicity doesn’t talk about it much, but he’s aware enough of the story to know that a development like this would cause more pain than happiness. “Wow, that’s a...really shitty thing to do.”

She can’t help but laugh. “That’s what my mother said too.”

“She’s a smart woman,” he says seriously. “So are you.”

Which is his way of saying that he’ll back her up, whatever she decides to do. God, she loves him so. She wraps her arms tightly around him, flattening her ear against his chest to hear his heart beating steadily underneath.

She doesn’t think she’ll ever take that for granted.

He returns the embrace, and she feels him kiss the top of her head. “Want to sneak out the fire escape? We could forget all this and go make out in the car like teenagers.”

She laughs again and pulls away, but keeps hold of his hand. “No. This is the only place I want to be.”

He kisses her again, lingering over her lips for a beat. “Good.”

She smiles at him, a real smile that she feels all the way to her toes, and lets him lead her back out to their family.


End file.
